


Earn Your Keep

by HigherMagic



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/pseuds/HigherMagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So, I hear you can't pay your rent…That's…I won't lie, that's not very good, Jensen."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earn Your Keep

"So, I hear you can't pay your rent."

The younger man shook his head, keeping his eyes pointedly downwards, biting into his lower lip in a guilty expression. His cheeks were slightly flushed from the heat of the apartment, which seemed to be on full-blast despite the unseasonable warmth.

Misha sighed in a long-suffering way, stepping into Jensen's neat apartment and closing the door behind him. He leaned against it for a few seconds, cradling the cold doorknob with both hands as he let it dig into his lower back, and gathered himself.

"That's…I won't lie," he said, lowering his voice a little despite himself, trying to keep himself under control when really, he felt like a wolf nearing its kill. "That's not very good, Jensen."

Jensen didn't know where it all went wrong. Okay, so maybe he'd been having to cut back on a few things – like cable and his morning cups of coffee (down from four to one on a good day, three on a bad day, when the caffeine addiction just overruled his common sense). He'd had to walk/run to work more often than take a cab or drive because gas was expensive nowadays and cabs, well, that was obvious. Maybe the food had gone a little spare in his apartment, but it wasn't like he was being starved out of house and home. Until he'd looked at his invoice and realized that he wouldn't have enough money to pay the rent this month.

He'd always been as good a tenant as he could be. Aside from the occasional jamming on his guitar and having his best friend Jared over for some video games and beer, he'd been quiet and kept his nose down, and generally kept out of trouble. He'd heard horror stories about the landlord and heard he had a bitch of a temper when people didn't pay their rent – the recession was hard on everyone, after all.

"What happened?" Misha's voice was low, and breathy, and just a little threatening, and Jensen looked up, folding his arms across his chest defensively, muscles flexing and Misha's eyes were drawn to his arms, bare and exposed as Jensen was only wearing a thin black wife beater and jeans, in response to the heat of the apartment. Misha could feel himself start to sweat under his shirt collar. He straightened, pushing himself away from the door, one side of his mouth quirking up in a caring, ravenous way. "Come on, Jensen. Tell me."

"It just…snuck up on me," the younger man confessed, his green eyes tracking everywhere except for Misha's face. His lips were parted, shoulders rising and falling gently as he breathed, the wife beater clinging to him in the dampness of new sweat, and Jensen relaxed his arms again, looking away, his fingers playing with each other as he fidgeted.

"I'm sure," Misha replied, advancing on Jensen more, his smile widening when the man didn't back away. "Sit down, Jensen," he commanded in a soft tone, pressing one hand at Jensen's shoulder but it was enough to have the man falling onto his couch, finally meeting Misha's eyes, dark forest green clashing with icy, oceanic blue, and Misha allowed his lips to curl into a little sneer. "Are you aware, Jensen, that you are little more than a number to me? That I could have your ass out on the street in a matter of hours?" Jensen's eyes widened, and his lips parted in a quick inhale, ready to defend himself, or to beg, or to plead or _something_ , and Misha silenced him, pressing two fingers to Jensen's full bottom lip. "Be silent."

Jensen sucked in a breath, still fixing wide, frightened, innocent green eyes on Misha's face, and the older man bit his lower lip to try and keep control of himself, because _that_ position should be reserved for porn or something. Misha cocked his head to one side, eyes narrowing as he thought, and he moved his fingers away from Jensen's mouth, to the back of his head, and fisted his hand in Jensen's soft hair. The younger man gasped and stiffened at the harsh, possessive touch, arching a little so that there was less pressure on his head, and Misha smirked lopsidedly again.

"Such a pretty face," he murmured, mostly to himself but loud enough for Jensen to hear. The man – _boy_ , Misha told himself, _he's a fucking boy_ – froze, just for a second, his eyes widening further still, but his pupils went blown, noticing how Misha's voice lowered almost a full octave, and got all rough and growly, and Jensen swallowed, the action difficult because of how far Misha was tilting his head back, and gasped. "Bet you'd make a lot of money on the streets with a face like that." Jensen's eyes closed and he shuddered. "Hmm, like that idea, Jen?" Misha whispered, his words catching on the nickname and Jensen gasped again, eyes flying open once more. "Like the idea of being on your knees for some random stranger, letting them use you just so you can have a place to sleep?"

And Jensen couldn't help it – he moaned, just barely managing to bite back the sound behind his bared teeth and clenched jaw, but he was pretty sure Misha heard it anyway 'cause he seemed like the kind of guy to have hearing like a fucking bat.

Misha laughed, the sound dark and low and it made Jensen's body _throb_. The younger man let out another little sound that he prayed, for the sake of his dignity, Misha didn't hear. His landlord raised a brow, a thoughtful expression coming to his face as he took in the _boy's_ blown pupils, his flushed cheeks, the redness spreading down his neck and chest, and his trembling muscles that were already shining with the beginnings of sweat, and he smirked.

Jensen had spread his legs for Misha – the older man didn't realize it until just then, but he was standing between Jensen's knees, the boy's hands resting on his thighs, digging in harshly with his thumbs to try and stop himself touching. Misha smiled at Jensen's attempt at control over himself, and took a step back, pulling by Jensen's hair and he didn't miss how the younger man shivered again at that – he liked a little rough handling. Good.

"On your knees, Jen," Misha growled, eyes flashing when Jensen eagerly obeyed, with little choice to do otherwise, and there was a soft 'thump' as his jean-clad knees hit the hardwood floor. "Let's see if you can earn yourself a place to sleep tonight."

Jensen's breathing was already getting heavy, but really, Misha wasn't far behind. He kept his hold strong in Jensen's hair, tugging a little experimentally, just to see how much control of his head Jensen was giving him, and smiled at the looseness in his neck, surrendering full control. "Done this before, have you?" Misha asked, with no small amount of amusement as he smirked, trailing one hand down his chest and to his own slacks, undoing the fastening one-handedly, nimble fingers quick and skilled, and then stopped when they were undone. Jensen's dark eyes flashed up to him. "Come on, boy, I think you can work out what to do from here," Misha growled, his own eyes almost black, the power high of having such a gorgeous man on his knees sending him into shivers, and his head dropped back when Jensen's shaking hands came up and grabbed onto his hips, framing Misha's bulge with his hands, and he nosed along the hard line of Misha's cock, his exhale coming out shaky and warm and damp through his slacks and boxers.

Jensen mouthed him through his slacks and Misha's hips gave a little stuttered jerk, and Jensen flashed another look at him from under his thick, dark eyelashes, and if Misha didn't know any better, he'd say the bastard was smirking.

The older man gave a more savage tug on Jensen's hair and the boy gasped, eyes fluttering closed and a moan escaping him, going straight to Misha's cock and the older man shuddered again. "Come on, Jen, gotta earn it now," he said, getting impatient with all the teasing.

Jensen looked up at him for a second longer, then nuzzled further into Misha's crotch like a Goddamn dog, and it took a second to realize that Jensen was… _fuck_ – was he?

Holy _shit_.

He was pulling down the zipper with his teeth, flashing white and bared behind his full lips, tugging on the small, delicate zipper with an easy movement that looked far too natural to be anything but practiced. "You _have_ done this before, haven't you?" Misha growled as Jensen used his hands to pull down Misha's slacks, and then boxers, baring his hard cock to the heat of the apartment, and Misha just had a fleeting thought that the air was actually nicely warm and didn't feel uncomfortable. Almost like the little slut planned this."Oh, you _whore_ ," he growled, and Jensen moaned again as his eyes fluttered closed, and he rested his cheek against one of Misha's hipbones. Misha's grip tightened in his hair, earning another moan, when Jensen took him in hand and started jacking him off with slow, rough strokes.

Jensen's breath skated along his flushed skin, making Misha shiver, and without coaxing the younger man moved so he could mouth around the base of Misha's erection, tongue flicking out and wrapping as much as it could around the shaft before withdrawing and being subjected to Jensen's exhale again, making Misha shiver.

" _Fuck_ ," the older man growled, unable to believe the sensations of what Jensen was doing, and looked down with wild eyes to the sight of the younger man slowly dragging his full, flushed lips up Misha's cock, his tongue finally flicking out when he reached the head. Jensen was practically purring when he reached the head, mouth poised to start taking Misha into his mouth, and really, the suspense was killing him. Misha didn't even wait – he grabbed Jensen's head a little more harshly with his one hand, his cock with the other, and shoved the two together, feeding Jensen his cock in one too-fast thrust.

The younger man choked a little half-way down and Misha backed off, not wanting the boy to gag or anything, but he quickly recovered, and his lips formed a nice, tight ring around Misha's cock, his hand going to what part he couldn't reach, and _fuck_ , his mouth was warm. Almost burning hot, even compared to the room's higher-than-average temperature. When Jensen pulled up, his tongue flicked along the sensitive bundle of nerves under the head, tonguing through the slit, and then back down, and _fuck_ , Jensen was way too good at this. Misha wouldn't last long. Wish he had a fucking video camera for this 'cause he'd make _millions_.

Or maybe it would just be for personal use. Misha didn't like to share that much.

His hips rocked steadily towards Jensen, fucking his mouth slowly, and it was amazing how Jensen just knelt there and took it, nostrils flaring as he tried to breathe, green eyes alternating between shut and looking at Misha. His cheeks were flushed, and it had spread down his chest now, and his hair was getting plastered to his face from sweat. Misha shifted his grip, threading his other hand through Jensen's hair, and started to rock into him in earnest, feeling his release fast approaching. He threw his head back and let out a low growl when he simply couldn't hold it in any longer, and pulled out of Jensen's mouth roughly, the little catch of teeth finally sending him over the edge, and he forced himself to open his eyes just in time for the first string of come to hit Jensen's face.

He painted that canvas like a fucking work of art, all that tanned, flushed skin contrasting so nicely to his paler added detail. He let a string go along Jensen's nose, from the corner of his mouth to the top of his opposite eye, and some landed in his hair, on his cheek, and Misha let the rest dribble onto his lips, painting up that pretty face with his come, and really, there should be laws against how good that looked.

Jensen was breathing heavily, full lips flushed red and parted as he tried to get his breath back, but he wasn't looking away from Misha's face, almost like he couldn't – he was locked there, held in Misha's web and the older man kind of liked that train of thought.

When Misha finished, there was a split second of nothing while both men got their breath back, and Misha looked his pretty boy over – he was wearing far too many clothes. "Get on the couch," he demanded, voice even lower after that orgasm, and he didn't miss how Jensen shivered at it.

But the younger man frowned, a little edge of fear coming back. "W…why?" he asked, having to clear his throat and try twice because…well, he sounded like he'd just been fucked and fucked good, and Misha fully intended to bring that simile to full completion.

He growled a little, a thrill running through him at how wide and dark Jensen's eyes got at that, and tugged on his hair, forcing the man to straighten. "Because I fucking said so," he growled, and the swear seemed to take Jensen by surprise, "now get on the couch. On your hands and knees." Jensen scrambled to obey. "I'm not even close to being finished with you yet."

Misha stood up, putting his weight mostly on one leg as he surveyed the sight that the younger man made. Jensen was beautiful – his arms bunched from the strain of taking his weight onto his elbows, back bowed so his ass was up in the air, legs spread as wide as he could get them on the limited space on the leather cushions. Misha smirked, cocking his head to one side. He was perfect.

Misha stepped forward, either not noticing or not minding how badly Jensen shook when he approached, and ran possessive hands over the younger man's muscled back. Jensen shivered lightly, his head falling forward and his muscles visibly relaxed under Misha's touch, which amused the older man, but he didn't comment on it. Misha tugged on the thin, sweat-dampened wife beater, peeling it over Jensen's back slowly until it was bunched up under his arms, but made no move to remove it completely. The material blocked most of Jensen's peripheral vision, and so he couldn't see Misha very well unless he turned his head.

"Don't you dare," Misha growled, fisting his hand in Jensen's hair and shoving his head back down. "Eyes on that couch, boy."

Jensen whimpered, eyes closed, body trembling, and Misha bit his lip to stop himself making a sound. _So pretty,_ Jensen was _so pretty_ , and Misha couldn't help himself – his fingertips traced the contours of Jensen's back, noticing how the boy shivered when he so much as brushed the dip in Jensen's spine – much more sensitive than the rest of him. Curious, Misha leaned down, situating himself behind the younger man, kneeling on the couch, and his hands took a firm hold of the soft flesh of Jensen's flanks, gripping until he felt the resistance of muscle, and Misha leaned down, plastering himself over the smaller man, and licked between Jensen's shoulder blades. The boy made a sound that could really only be described as a mewl, shoulders dipping in avoidance, and he gasped, tossing his head at the sensation of Misha's tongue playing over his sweaty, flushed, oversensitive skin, and it only got worse when Misha began to rock steadily behind him, making their bodies roll.

Jensen was shaking, his eyes closed and teeth bared, hands fisting the leather couch cushions as he tried desperately to get a grip on himself, then suddenly, the pressure and the hot damp of Misha's mouth was gone. He whimpered, turning his head again to try and find the other man and Misha was suddenly there, in front of him, a hand fisting in Jensen's hair once again and tugging harshly enough that the man was forced to his knees. Misha had shed his clothes and was now completely naked. For a moment the two men just stared at each other – Misha calm, calculating, but with ravenous excitement in his eyes and Jensen flushed, shaking, sweaty, biting his lower lip to stop himself making noise, face painted up with Misha's drying come. It was a decadent sight.

Misha tugged Jensen forward, letting his lips part and Jensen thought they were going to kiss – he opened his mouth in readiness, knowing that Misha's kiss was likely to be like the rest of him – debilitating and completely all-encompassing. But Misha didn't let their lips touch. He growled when Jensen tried. Instead, he nosed along the dip between Jensen's cheek and nose, breathing into Jensen's open mouth and inhaling the younger man's scent in return – and, by extension, Misha's scent on Jensen. He curved closer, his other hand skating up Jensen's side and eliciting yet another shiver from the younger, responsive man, and tugged on the bunched wife beater, yanking it over Jensen's head when Jensen lifted his arms to help. Misha threw it away and Jensen didn't see where it landed because suddenly Misha tugged his head back, exposing the tanned line of his throat, gleaming with sweat, and Jensen gasped loudly when Misha's mouth dragged down his jaw to the hollow of his throat, and the older man bit down harshly. Immediately Jensen's hands grabbed at Misha's body, trying to steady himself, and his hips gave a startled, involuntary jerk, and Jensen let out a loud moan when he felt the harsh line of Misha's teeth threaten to break skin. It hurt, but _fuck_ , the pain was so good – focused and consuming just like Misha.

Then, the older man pulled back, his eyes completely black now. "On your back," he growled through clenched teeth, hands turning harsh like it was taking all of his self control not to ravish Jensen right there, and _that_ thought was doing all sorts of unfair things to Jensen's libido. The younger man felt this close to just creaming himself, and while that would be embarrassing, he had a feeling Misha would just be faintly amused and then fuck him into the couch anyway.

Jensen shivered just thinking about it.

Misha shoved him down onto the couch, so he was sitting half-propped against the back, staring up at the older man with dazed eyes, and immediately Misha dropped to his knees between Jensen's spread legs, that wolf-smirk on his face again, eyes sparking. The room was far too warm – suffocating, almost, and Jensen felt like he couldn't breathe, couldn't believe that this was happening. His heart was jack-knifing in his chest and all he could think was _Misha, Misha, Misha,_ fuck _, Misha…_

"Lift up," the older man purred, his hands going to Jensen's jeans, and it took a moment for Jensen to catch up with Misha, and then he lifted his hips eagerly, making Misha chuckle and lean down as he pulled off Jensen's jeans – no underwear, how… _eager_ – and mouth along the sharp jut of Jensen's hipbone. Jensen stuttered out a moan, head falling back. "Such a _pretty_ boy," Misha whispered into the soft, slightly-lighter skin under Jensen's clothes as he pulled off the jeans and threw them away again. Jensen's cock was hard and flushed, lying up against his belly, and Misha took him in hand, smirking when Jensen bucked his hips, trying desperately to get the friction that Misha refused to give him. "Look at you, spreading like a whore for me, so needy. Already got good and fucked in your mouth and you're just desperate for more, aren't you?" Jensen moaned again, eyes fluttering closed, lashes kissing his cheeks which were flushed from lust and need and he was _so beautiful_. Misha leaned down and bit down softy at Jensen's inner thigh and the younger man jerked, moaning again, eyes flaring open. "Answer me, Jen."

"Y… _Yes_ ," Jensen stuttered out, fingers curling into the edges of the leather cushions, and it was hard to find grip because of his sweat-slicked palms. " _Misha -."_

The older man growled, tightening his grip on Jensen's shaft and tugging up harshly, making the boy groan in pleasure-pain and bare his teeth, eyes clenched tightly shut, muscles flexing in his thighs and arms. "That's not what you get to call me, Jensen," Misha said in a soft tone, but one that held no room for argument. "It's Mister Collins. Or 'Sir', if you prefer." Misha smirked when Jensen shivered at the title.

"Sorry, Sir," Jensen whispered, licking his full, flushed red lips, eyes opening to half-mast and locking onto Misha's blue. "Please, please don't stop," he begged, making a desperate, needy sound when Misha loosened his grip again and stroked up and down Jensen's shaft, deliberately avoiding the hot spots that would get Jensen off. "Fucking _tease_."

"Says you," Misha quipped in reply, standing up swiftly, and Jensen stared at him with wide eyes. When he made a move to get up, Misha shoved at his shoulders until he stayed down. "Be still," Misha growled, and then moved away from Jensen, heading towards the Master bedroom. "Pretty boy like you, I bet you get all sorts of attention – flaunting your body in those tight t-shirts and jeans and those lips, always licking them, always smiling in that easy way." Misha returned from the bedroom, smiling, pleased when he saw that Jensen hadn't moved. "Such a flirt, a tease, without even opening your mouth." Jensen sat up a little straighter, frowning and ready to protest, but Misha stopped him with a hand to his mouth, leaning down. He cocked his head to one side, smiling, looking over Jensen's face. "You know what happens to little cock-teases like you on the streets?" Jensen's eyes widened again at the reminder and he shook his head. Whether it was in response or denial, Misha didn't know, but he didn't much care. The older man hummed, straightening, then produced the half-empty bottle of lube he'd found in Jensen's top drawer, from behind his back. Jensen's eyes widened further, seeing it. "Well, how about you behave and we won't have to find out?"

Jensen swallowed, nodding, but Misha shook his head. "Gonna have to do better than that, Jen," he whispered, pouring the lube over his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it up. Jensen shivered at the way that nickname slipped easily from Misha's lips, like he couldn't help the intimacy of it, or he just liked the dirty little growl that came with it.

Jensen took a deep breath. "Yes, Mister Collins."

Oh, that was _so_ pretty, his name rolling off of Jensen's tongue like a purr, only it shook on the tail-end, and how his tongue flicked out between his teeth at the 'l'. Fucking beautiful. Misha growled, tossing the now-empty bottle of lube to join their clothes, and stepped forward, between Jensen's legs. The younger man leant back a little, passive.

"Damn right," Misha said softly, then he knelt down between Jensen's legs, never taking his eyes off of the younger man, and Jensen jumped when Misha's slippery hand closed around his cock, and the younger man's eyes fell closed, his head falling back. "Eyes on me, pretty boy," Misha said forcefully, turning his head to bite lightly at Jensen's inner thigh, and the boy shivered and spread his legs wider. "Move your hips down here for me."

"W…what?" Jensen asked, but complied, wriggling down so his ass was practically hanging off the edge of the couch, and Misha licked his lips and moved his hand away from Jensen's straining, flushed cock, and took Jensen's thighs and shoved them over his shoulders.

Jensen got no warning before Misha's tongue was suddenly circling his hole, and _God_ , that felt weird. Jensen made a little sound of protest in the back of his throat, hands fisting tightly in Misha's hair and tugging, thighs trying to close, but Misha's hands were knowing and firm, keeping Jensen nicely spread open. The older man smirked, leaning in again and licking around Jensen's tight little hole, feeling the boy loosen to his coaxing.

His laugh was an evil purr. "So eager, aren't we, pretty boy?" he asked, licking between Jensen's cheeks and using his lube-slick fingers to part Jensen so he could lick deeper into the younger man. "Look at you, such a slut, letting yourself get fucked for a place to sleep, writhing so prettily on this couch, spreading yourself like a fucking whore and I haven't even touched you yet." Jensen whined, his hands tightening in Misha's thick black hair, tugging lightly. Misha's eyes fell closed at the sensation and he bit down at the join between Jensen's thigh and hip, sucking a dark red mark though, and Jensen moaned. "I think we need more than a tongue in there, don't you?"

Jensen nodded emphatically and Misha shook his head and tutted lightly.

The boy swallowed. "I'm…I mean, yes, Sir," Jensen gasped out, need making his cheeks dark and red, that pretty flush spreading all down his chest. Misha nosed along the line of Jensen's flush, finding a dark, peaked nipple and he sealed his mouth around it, sucking lightly and flicking it with his tongue. Jensen gasped again. "Fuck, Mister _Collins_ … _please_."

The older man did that evil little laugh again. "Since you asked so nicely," he growled, biting down again around Jensen's nipple as he shifted, kneeling up so he could hold one thigh up against his hip, and he circled Jensen's hole with his lube-slicked fingers. He pushed one in without a thought, and the boy hissed, clenching down instinctively and tried to shift up the couch to avoid the burn, but Misha's hands and mouth kept him down. "Shh, Jen, I've got you. Just take it."

Jensen whined softly, jaw clenched as Misha twisted his finger inside of him, dragging his fingertip across his velvety insides, until he found – _there it was_. Jensen practically howled when Misha pressed against his prostate, back bowing so their chests rubbed along each other, trapping Jensen's cock beneath their stomach.

" _Fuck_ …Mish…Sir, _please_."

Misha smirked, amused that Jensen was remembering his order, and rewarded his pretty boy by bringing their mouths together. After licking one of his come streaks from Jensen's face, of course – let the boy taste him. Jensen opened up so sweetly underneath him, legs wrapping around Misha's hips in response to the kiss, one hand fisted in the leather couch cushion again and the other knotted tightly in Misha's hair, keeping their mouths together.

 _Fuck,_ but Jensen tasted good. Misha moaned into Jensen's mouth, dominating that kiss with the ease that he was leading everything else, as he twisted his finger and then added another, the lube making things a little easier but Jensen was almost virgin-tight, and the going was slower than Misha would've liked, despite Jensen's encouragements – or desperate pleas – to fuck him.

When Misha got up to three fingers, though, his impatience overwhelmed him. He was hard again and ready to fuck his boy into the couch. He stood up, his fingers pulling out and Jensen whined at the emptiness, clenching around it, trying to keep it in. He sat up when Misha moved away.

"Where are you going?"

Misha raised an eyebrow and looked at him, cocking his head to one side and smirking. "Getting a condom – can't fuck a dirty whore without protection," he replied coolly, watching how Jensen flinched at the insinuation that he could be carrying disease, spreading so easily for every Tom, Dick and Harry walking into his apartment.

"Not dirty. 'M clean, I swear," Jensen replied, breathing heavily from arousal as Misha had yet to let him come. His cock was almost flushed purple and his body was so slick with sweat that the only way to get a grip on him was with his hair, and with his cheeks and chest red with various marks from Misha's mouth, he certainly didn't _look_ clean. No, he looked _sinful_.

"You'll forgive me if I don't believe you," Misha said, eyes dark.

"Please… _Mister Collins,_ " Jensen replied, sighing out the name like it was taking all of his breath just to speak, and he reached forward again, crawling up onto his hands and knees on the couch, like he was just a fucking offering for Misha and it was hard to deny himself _that_. He walked forward and started touching before he could help himself. "Need to feel you fucking me and filling me up. _Please_ , I swear, just _fuck me_. Can't wait anymore." The sentences came out short, sharp and punchy, desperate and needy just like the rest of him.

Misha hummed, considering, but really, who was he to deny when his boy asked so prettily? "You give me anything and next time I'll do more than throw you out onto the streets," he growled in a half-threat, before he knelt up behind Jensen, between his spread legs on the couch. He brushed his palms up Jensen's thighs, fingers slotting perfectly over the perfect curve of his hipbones, and he leaned down again, licking at Jensen's loose, waiting, eager hole, noticing how Jensen clenched and tried to draw him in, and he chuckled, straightening again. Again, he gave Jensen no warning when he took himself in hand and started to press into the boy's eager body.

Jensen moaned, shoulders dropping so he supported himself on his elbows, and rested his forehead against his forearms, leaning back so he was fucking himself back onto Misha's cock before the older man had even bottomed out. Misha growled at that thought, throwing his head back because _fuck_ , Jensen was tight, and hot, and _slick_. Like a virgin girl.

"Mmm, so wet for me, pretty boy," Misha purred, plastering himself over Jensen, hands shamelessly exploring the boy's body as he lazily rocked forward, at the perfect angle to strike at Jensen's prostate, and the younger man groaned in almost-pain from how good it felt. Oversensitive, suspended in need for long, it took practically nothing before he was coming, untouched, onto the leather couch beneath him, practically slipping as his body convulsed through the shocks of pleasure, sweat making grip on the couch damn near impossible.

Misha fucked him through his orgasm and then some, enjoying the clenching, overwhelming tightness of Jensen's muscles locking up around him, and then when Jensen was all loose, pliant and fucked-out, muffling his sounds of pleasure-pain against his forearms and the leather cushions.

Throwing his head back, hands gripping Jensen tightly, Misha shoved in as far as he could get into Jensen's burning, shaking body, and muffled his groan against Jensen's shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave another mark as he filled his boy up. They were both breathing hard and panting, and Jensen didn't move until he felt Misha's body relax and go slack.

He stretched his arms out, arching his back like a contented cat, a satisfied smile on his face. "I didn't think I would enjoy that so much," he said conversationally.

Misha chuckled against his shoulder, smirking tiredly, but triumphantly. "That's why I top," he replied playfully to his boyfriend, earning a light smack on his shoulder, and he laughed, pressing a kiss to the mark he'd just left, and pulled out so Jensen could roll over onto his back, and Misha sprawled out over his lover's chest, humming again contentedly.

"'Sir'? Really?" Jensen asked after another moment, sounding derisive and amused, and Misha laughed, smacking Jensen's ass playfully, earning a little squeak and hip-buck from his boyfriend.

"Hey, I got a vibe. I went with it." He lifted his head, smile widening. " _You_ went with it."

Jensen hummed a little, relaxing back against the couch cushions and staring up at the ceiling. "That was fun," he said after a moment, stroking a hand through Misha's sweat-slick hair, and the older man huffed his contentment as well, burying deeper into his boyfriend's embrace. "We should do something like that again sometime."

Misha laughed again. "Sure. I'll be back in about a month," he drawled lazily, earning another slap on his shoulder, but he just sighed and burrowed deeper. "Love you, you unconsciously kinky bastard."

Jensen snorted. "Happy Valentine's Day to you too, Mish."

 


End file.
